Ike's Learning Corner
by FootLeeismysexysensei
Summary: After a series of strange events followed by an unexpected class change, Ike becomes a Feng Shui master, and Soren has a mental breakdown! And we may even get a glimpse of what Lethe does in her spare time! WOOT!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Here's the first of many stupid, random, and totally pointless fics that I've written, but never typed up or posted! I'm going to try to post a few new fics, as well as finish the ones I've started! We all know this will never happen, but let's remain optimistic, shall we?

I just want to say that I love all the characters, despite the way I portray them. I do this sort of thing a lot, come to think of it…

Anyway, I LOVE feedback and I'll accept any sort of review-- flames, empty flattery, in-depth critique—anything makes me beam with happiness and sing songs of praise! So have fun and REVIEW! You never know—you and I could even become friends or something. Or better friends if we already are.

**Ch.1: Campfire Philosophy!**

In some remote, forested corner of Begnion, Greil's mercenaries were huddling around a campfire fueled by Hardtack biscuits and Rawhide. Assuming the stuff could burn in the real world, the fire stunk horribly, creating ideal conditions for what was about to happen, not unlike spontaneous bacterial growth. Except these weren't Bacterium, but rather Ike, Soren, Titania, Rolf, Oscar, Boyd and Marcia.

The camera zoomed in to allow us a closer look at what their Hardtack and Rawhide campfire will do to our dearly beloved mercenaries…

"The fire's low," Titania said with a shiver, wrapping her colossal braid around her like a shawl, "Put some more Hardtack on the fire, Boyd."

Boyd did as he was told and threw more "tinder" on the fire. After a minute or so, it began to crackle happily along with its kin. The very second the smoke wafted past Soren's nose, he dry heaved violently.

"Ike," Soren began weakly, "The smell is revolting—"Soren gagged and continued, "I can't stand to eat the stuff, much less SMELL it. So why are we burning _this_ when we're in a FOREST!"

Ike shrugged with folded arms, "I Dunno. It was the first thing I came up with."

Holding his stomach, Soren gave a helpless whimper that no one heard, and he realized that nobody cared. Then he had the sudden urge to puke his guts out, so he bolted to do so at the base of a nearby tree.

"Eww!" Boyd exclaimed, "Why'd he have to toss his cookies closest to me!"

"You think you're so cool 'cause you're so smart, huh Soren!" Rolf protested, "But we aren't so dumb! We STARTED the fire with wood!"

"That's my little brother!" Oscar said, patting Rolf's head proudly, "We didn't raise you to be a dummy, that's for sure!"

"Wait a sec," Marcia said, "Aren't these supposed to be emergency rations?"

"…Maybe." Ike reacted, shooting her a dangerous glare, "Who wants to know?"

"Umm…I guess I do." She answered.

"Oh, ok." Ike said, and resumed his basket weaving as if nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, Soren had ralphed himself as clean as a whistle and stumbled back to the circle to bask in the warmth of the fire. "It's the worst when it first starts to burn."

There were various nods and mumbles of agreement emitted from among his comrades. After that, nobody really had anything to say, but it didn't really matter because conversation wasn't really a priority among them. Rolf, on the other hand couldn't stand the silence anymore and finally decided to turn the flow of conversation, or the lack thereof, to something to drastic, so crazy, it could only be blamed on his ignorance.

"So…" He piped up uncomfortably, "What's with all the Racism and stuff?"

Marcia, Oscar and Boyd all gasped in utter surprise.

"People are afraid of what's unfamiliar, that's all." Explained Titania, "Maybe one day you'll be able to help bridge the gap between the Laguz and Beorc."

Everybody grinned and gave Rolf an encouraging pat on the back. The world was a beautiful, happy place until it was shattered by Soren's critical snort.

"That'd be nice, but it'd never happen; especially if Rolf is heading the movement."

Rolf frowned. He huffed angrily, and grabbed a nearby stick to draw circles in the dirt.

"Why not?" Titania inquired, "All of us Mercenaries are getting along just fine."

Soren sighed exasperatedly, "Nobody's going to listen to mercenaries. The only people whose opinions really matter are the nobility, and the way things are going, I think they're more likely to kill each other than bear the other's presence."

Ike sat up, taking sudden interest in the conversation.

"C'mere boy." He commanded Rolf, "Come here and sit on my knee."

Startled, Rolf dropped the stick and glanced at his brothers questioningly. Oscar and Boyd exchanged glances and shrugged back to Rolf in reply.

Ike scowled, "I said get over here boy."

Rolf complied uncertainly, and hopped onto Ike's knee.

"Rolf," Ike began, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder as a father would, "An ideal world would be like a box of Screaming Yellow Zonkers."

Rolf's face contorted grotesquely due to the brain cramp he was experiencing, "Screaming Yellow what?"

"Screaming Yellow Zonkers. You know those things that are kinda like Crackerjacks or Caramel corn, except they're better." He explained as if everyone should know what he's talking about, and continued on despite their looks of total confusion.

"Rolf, it's your responsibility to construct this place; a utopia in a black cardboard box where both races are distributed equally, like crunchy popcorn and buttery caramel coating."

Rolf tilted his head to one side and scratched his noggin.

"A place where all can be educated and learn to co-exist with one another, realizing that a world with just crunchy popcorn or just buttery caramel coating would be a bland one indeed. That together, we can be far tastier than we ever could become on our own."

Rolf cocked an eyebrow, "What? Do you want me to lead people or a box of Caramel corn?"

"Screaming Yellow Zonkers." Ike corrected.

"Whatever."

"Rolf, once these quarrelling races have realized this, there WILL be a utopia where they can exist in harmony, lying undisturbed on a convenience store shelf for eons and eons." Ike drew to a close with sparkling eyes.

"Wow…that was, um…deep Commander." Oscar commented politely.

"Yeah, and that reminds me that I have to go now." Boyd said, taking off like a racehorse.

Rolf's eyes lit up, "Yeah, me too!" He said, hopping off Ike's knee and running for his life.

Gradually, the others carefully slipped away; first Marcia, then Soren, followed by Oscar, and lastly Titania.

Ike didn't even notice. He sat in solitude for a few minutes when suddenly a small owl swooped in and began flying around Ike's head and hooting like it was his job. Ike did his best to politely ignore the owl, but when it started running into his head, THAT was the straw that broke the camel's back. He drew his sword and in a flash, he had defeated the owl, slicing it in half.

He stood breathing like an enraged bull, but with his body otherwise totally frozen with one hand on his sword sheath and his other still fully extended from the previous sword stroke. A triumphant grin crept across face as he looked around for his foe. He spotted it, and the smile was instantly wiped off his face; he had killed an endangered Spotted Owl.

He sighed and sheathed his sword. He just knew that Lethe was going to have his head for this. She knew every animal in the forest on a first-name basis, and would notice if any of them didn't show up for one of her "seminars."

He almost began to fear for his life, but then he realized that she never had to know. So, he went to work putting together an incredibly complex plan involving both halves of the owl and a large pile of leaves.

He chuckled deviously and rubbed his hands together in satisfaction when the dirty deed was done and the wretched owl was safely hidden under a grand heap of leaves… or so he thought, but that will come later.

He turned to make his way back to camp when to Ike's utter surprise, his experience bar popped up and was topped off taking him from level 20 back to level one again, which could only mean one thing.

The heavens opened up and all the heavenly host broke out into awesome choruses praising the Almighty. The clouds parted and beams of glory poured out upon Ike, transfiguring him and filling his soul with a warmth he'd only felt once before in his life— the time had Oscar baked him an entire cherry pie and he ate it in one sitting before he had to share. But Ike turned his joyfully teary eyes to the heavens as his body was reborn, and he realized his new calling in life.

The light gradually dimmed and the new Ike was revealed to the world.

The title "Feng Shui Master!" popped up on the screen and Ike's new stat boosts magically pinged on his info card; he got a one up in Intelligence, coming to a whopping two points, and he even got a new mystery category called 'Chi' which started out with three points.

Now, confidently, Ike marched back to camp with his cool new title and his renewed determination to change the world in a way he would never had thought of before.

He disappeared into the darkness, and suddenly Soren's blood-chilling-- not to mention feminine-- scream pierced the night.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO YOURSELF, IKE!"

A/N: Well, what did you think? This is a pretty short chapter by my standards, and I hope it doesn't suck too badly.

Remember, I love to hear from you! So drop me a line if you feel so inclined!


	2. Ch2: McMaori!

A/N: Can you believe it! An update! Yeah, so after like the first chapter, I wasn't sure where to go with this fic, but then out of the blue I had an idea! Of course now I'm fresh out, so I definitely need suggestions. I'll try to do responses this time around, too. I feel bad about that.

I just gotta do some background on this before we start. While we were in New Zealand, we stopped off at a McDonald's for breakfast, and wouldn't you know it, it was a Maori themed Mickey D's! Well, I just thought it was the craziest thing I'd ever seen, so here we are! I tried not to make it too confusing, so, um, good luck with that!

Anyway, you know the drill! I love it when you review! Choirs of angels sing your praises every time you do!

**Ch. 2: McMaori!**

"I've never seen anything like it." Oscar commented, poking his head through the door like a frightened prairie dog. Boyd and Rolf squeezed their heads in underneath his, in order by age, taking in their surroundings.

"What about it, Oscar?" Boyd snapped, barging through, "Quit being a wuss."

Oscar frowned, "Hey… It's not like I was afraid or anything, I was just caught off-guard by the décor!"

All three of them stopped to soak in their surroundings. It was the strangest mix between a fast-food restaurant and a tribal meetinghouse, complete with carvings of tikis and a varying assortment of figures you really had to use your head to divine their purpose or form. (If you're having a hard time picturing it, think of _Whale Rider,_ or to make it even simpler, just do the stereotypical Pacific Islander thing.)

"Hey Oscar, get a move-on!" Boyd hollered back.

Oscar caught up with his brothers, who were already standing in line.

"I still can't believe we found a fast food restaurant within yards of camp!" Boyd could hardly contain his enthusiasm, "I was wandering around aimlessly, looking for the kitchen tent, ready to collapse of hunger when all of the sudden-- _POOF!_ A restaurant right before my eyes!" He licked his chops, eyeing the menu eagerly, "I'm-a gonna get me a Manly McPancakes!"

Oscar cocked an eyebrow, "That uh … isn't on the menu, Boyd."

"Sure it is!" Boyd said, pointing to an empty section of wall, "It's over there, see? It says 'Manly McPancakes' in plain English!"

Oscar paused and took a breath, "Yeah. Like I said before—"

"No! Don't you see it? It's pancakes with hash browns and sausages!"

Oscar quickly grew tired of arguing and decided it wasn't worth the effort. "Whatever you say, Boyd." He said, signaling his forfeit by raising his hands in the air. "Anyway… what do you want, Rolf? … Rolf?"

Where Rolf should have been standing was a Rolf-shaped dust cloud silhouette. Shading his eyes from the blazing fluorescent lighting, Oscar's gaze followed a trailing cloud of dust into the horizon, focusing on a figure madly sprinting toward the playplace.

"No, Rolf!" Oscar began dashing after him, tears streaming from his eyes. Only a split-second later, he was put into a headlock by his younger brother.

"Stop it, Oscar! It's not worth it!" Boyd said through clenched teeth, "He's dead to us!"

"We can't let him go now!" Oscar protested, struggling wildly, "If we do, he'll never come back!"

"We're too late! There's nothing more we can do for him!" Boyd growled, wrestling him to the ground.

They struggled for a good five minutes before Oscar suddenly went limp. "Lemme go, Boyd." He said in a defeated tone. Boyd considered letting him go, but thought better of it.

Oscar began wriggling around like a grounded fish, "I SAID—"

"Excuse me," a voice struggling to mask its irritation piped up, "Are you ready to order?"

They both stopped dead, staring at her like deer in the headlights. Boyd released Oscar, and they shot onto their feet and dusted themselves off.

Boyd chuckled heartily and clapped his brother on the back, "We sure are! Why don't you go first, Oscar!"

This depressed teenage cashier's heavily lined eyes bored into Oscar's soul, regardless of the fact that they were mostly obscured by her hair, dyed jet-black

"Sure…" Oscar said flatly, assessing the risk of speaking to her. He was afraid she might throw hot oil all over them if he so much as breathed in a way that displeased her. "Let's see… I'd like a Big Kiwi Breakfast and an orange juice."

"Would you like hash browns with that?"

"Yes, um…" he peered at her name tag, "Trish."

She gave him a forced smile; hard as she tried to hide it, she was not amused. She turned to Boyd, her very gaze making his blood run cold. "How about you, sir?"

He swallowed his anxiety and rested his elbow on the desk, grinning at her confidently as he gave her his order: "I'd like a Manly McPancakes with a Kiwifruit smoothie."

Trish remained silent, and stared at him for a moment before checking the menu on the wall to her rightt, and then double-checking on the menu behind her. Sure of herself, she turned to face them and said, "I don't think either of those exist, sir."

The grin on Boyd's face quickly faded. "They do too!"

She hesitated. "Really… They don't."

Boyd's face hardened. "Do too."

Oscar intervened before a brawl broke out between the two of them and decided for Boyd, "He'll just have some hotcakes with a side of hashbrowns and a sausage patty."

She let out a breath of relief as she punched in the order. She'd probably be fired if she beat up another customer. "Anything to drink?"

Oscar sent Boyd away to find a clean table and leaned in, "Just give him a Sprite; he won't know the difference."

"Is that all?" She asked.

"Yes. I mean—no. Let's include a children's order of pancakes."

Everything went slow-mo as her fingertips neared the keyboard, preparing to seal the deal. She was a hair's breadth away when suddenly a scream rent the air. It was Rolf.

"NUUUUUUUUUUUU! NOT A HAPPY MEAL!"

Oscar sighed and folded his arms, "Tell me what you want, then."

Rolf's head poked through one of the portholes of the dreaded playplace. "I want a Manly McPancakes!"

Oscar massaged his temples. "Rolf is there anything else you want? Maybe something that actually EXISTS." He said firmly.

"No! Nothing else!" Rolf barked brattishly.

Oscar ignored him, turning to Trish and said, "He'll settle for the pancakes."

Rolf's wailing rang throughout the playplace while Boyd pointed at him and laughed it up.

She did her magical thing with the cash register and suddenly came up with a sum, "That'll be $12.97." Her open hand waited expectantly.

Oscar stared at her blankly, "… What was that?"

She rolled her eyes, "Twelve DOLLARS and ninety-seven CENTS." It was then Oscar realized that they weren't working in the same system.

He grinned sheepishly. "Um, can you hold on a sec?" He walked around the corner and ushered Boyd over.

It took Boyd a few minutes to notice Oscar madly flailing his arms before he finally decided Oscar needed something and walked over. "What's up, bro?"

"Say, Boyd. Do you have any idea what a 'Dollar' is?"

Boyd gave him a vacant gaze, "No, should I?" Oscar cursed.

"Okay, here's the plan: we'll split up and try to find anything that might be money and then we'll meet up here and present it to her to see if she takes any of it." Oscar said, sounding panicked.

"What's in it for me?" Boyd inquired, eyeing his brother cautiously.

Oscar nearly ripped his hair out. "We're trying to pay for breakfast, you idiot!"

Boyd's face brightened, "Oh! Why didn't you say so?" he clapped his brother on the shoulder warmly and went searching. Oscar stood in awe of his younger brother's idiocy for a moment and then remembered the urgent task at hand.

A few minutes later, the two regrouped to evaluate their findings. They laid their items on the table and began to determine whether what they found was money or not.

"Well, I suppose I'll show what I found first…" Oscar said, "I found this piece of white paper with numbers on it, numbers are good, so we'll hang on to that. Then I found this strange colored papery thing."

"What's it say?" Boyd asked, taking it and examining it.

"If I knew that then we'd know if it was money or not."

Boyd snorted, "You really think they pay in paper?"

Oscar snatched his item back, "You never know!"

"What else did you find?"

"Just this stretchy rubber loopy thing." Oscar said setting his last item on the table.

Boyd picked it up and looked at it. He fumbled with it for a moment before squeeing with delight at its incredible stretchiness. "Ooo! This is fun!"

Oscar slapped it out of Boyd's hands. "Enough of that! Now what did you find?"

Boyd grinned widely and pulled the vast collection of things he had amassed out of his pockets and showed them to Oscar. "Well, I found a spring, and this twisted up piece of metal,"

Oscar sighed.

"A piece of string, a paper tube you can look through, this colorful piece of paper that looks like it's made to fit on your finger, and a piece of candy."

Oscar looked the items over carefully, "Where's the candy?"

"Here." He said, pulling it out of his mouth. "It's on a stick." He pointed at the colored papery one made to fit on the finger, "The room I entered to get that one was full of women that screamed and threw things at me. They didn't like me very much. I'm thinking that they were nuns or something."

Oscar hung his head in disappointment, "I don't know about you, but this looks like junk to me."

Boyd's face lit up, "I almost forgot this wadded up green paper ball!" He said setting it on the table proudly. "It has numbers on it!"

"Well, we've done all we can. Let's take what we have to her and see if it's worth anything."

They carried their garbage to the cashier, who stared at them.

"It's about time you got here." She suddenly noticed the pile of junk oh the table. "What the heck is this?"

"Umm," Oscar couldn't bear to look her in the eye, "Is this enough?"

She cocked an eyebrow, "Excuse me?" They remained silent. She grew more confused. "Are you trying to pay me with this?"

They nodded sheepishly. Looking at their situation, a pang of pity gripped her bitter, angst-filled heart. It pained her terribly judging by the way she clawed at her chest, but when the pain subsided, she decided to humor them. "Fine then," she said, "let's see what you've got here:

"Well, you've got a receipt, and an old lottery ticket." she paused picking the latter up and examining it. Oscar and Boyd hoped that it was currency, but were both disappointed and confused when she said "You didn't win anything, sucks to be you." She threw away the receipt and lottery ticket and moved on. "What else? A rubber band, a spring, a paper clip, a piece of string, a toilet paper tube, and… a tampon wrapper?" She stared at them, and Oscar hit Boyd who just shrugged.

"So far, there isn't any money," She said, "Is that all you've got?"

Boyd's face brightened and he dug the green wad of paper out of his pocket and offered it to her.

She took it and unraveled it. "It looks like you lucked out, boys. You found a twenty dollar bill."

"Does that mean we found money?" Oscar asked, totally awestruck.

She nodded and opened up the cash register to get their change.

Oscar and Boyd jumped with joy, then hugged each other in a tender but still manly fashion. And since it was one of those moments that merited a totally righteous high- five, they did just such a high- five full of brotherly love.

They were still celebrating when they were rudely interrupted by Trish.

"Here's your change." She said, the money in her hand.

Boyd stared at her hand, and then at her, then at her hand again. "What's this?"

She drew an exasperated breath, "Your leftover money sir."

They were totally stumped. They couldn't figure out why she would be offering them money.

She grabbed his hand and dumped the money in it, "Just take it."

"… Thanks?"

"Don't mention it. I'll call you when your order's up." She said, forcing one final smile.

"Thanks, Trish." Oscar said, genuinely grateful, however totally oblivious to how little she actually cared.

She looked up at him and her face contorted horribly. The corners of her mouth twitched violently, as if she were attempting to smile again. After a short struggle, she quit trying and busied herself sorting change as if she had never heard him. Oscar was taken aback and decided that she had the right idea. So he did the same thing and pretended that nothing had happened and moved on with his life, which was really the better option.

He shrugged and went to take a seat next to his brother.

MEANWHILE!

"C'mon!" A freckled brunette kid pleaded, "Can you let me past so I can go potty? PLEEEEAAASE!"

Rolf, who was sitting lengthwise across the plastic tunnel and blocking it with his legs, turned his head and grinned mischievously.

The five or so kids stuck in the plastic cube part behind Rolf's barricade swallowed hard.

After a rather long pause, Rolf buffed his fingernails on his shirt and said, "I'll think about it,"

The freckled kid wailed, crumpling into a heap on the padded floor of the cube in which they inhabited. A small, blonde girl patted him on the back reassuringly.

"I gotta get through!" A chubby kid protested, "My mom's already called me and counted to ten! I'm gonna be in so much trouble when I get out!"

"Yeah, and I bet a grown-up'll come and you'll get in trouble and then your mommy and daddy are going to be so mad at you." A girl with a ponytail warned him.

"I don't have a mommy or daddy," Rolf said, trying to sound hard-core, "You wanna know why?"

They all nodded, wide-eyed.

"Because…" he began, leaning in, beckoning for them to come closer, "I SHOT 'EM!"

They all just about jumped out of their skins, causing the playplace to shake violently. The scare made the brunette kid began crying for his mommy. Rolf laughed heartily at their expense.

The blonde girl looked at him with pleading eyes, "I don't know how much longer he can hold it. If he doesn't go potty soon then he might pee all over the place." All the other kids shrieked and recoiled.

Rolf chuckled "I'll let you go, but only if you can tell me the secret password."

"Is it 'alligator?'" one girl asked.

Rolf shook his head.

"Snickers?" guessed another girl.

"Nope."

"Ponies?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Pokemon?"

Rolf made a disgusted face, "Eww! No way!"

They guessed tirelessly for minutes on end, and the boy who had to pee grew more and more desperate every second. He trembled miserably as sweat dripped off his face.

"Is it your Grandma's name?"

"Nope! Guess again!" Rolf sang smugly. He liked this game because it was one that they couldn't possibly win!

"I'll bet he's lying." A blonde boy said, "I'll betcha there isn't any password."

"There is too!" Rolf insisted, "You're all just a bunch of stupid-heads, that's why you haven't guessed it."

Rolf's sharp remark was met with gasps of complete shock as well as retorts like "It takes one to know one!" and the classic "No, YOU'RE a stupid-head!"

"Hey, who made you the boss?" The blonde girl pointed out, inadvertently planting the seeds of rebellion.

"Yeah," another kid said, "I bet I'm older than you!"

Rolf became furious, "Oh yeah?" He muttered some things under his breath while he searched for a decent comeback. "Well, I… I-I bet that my brother could beat all of you up!"

"I bet that I could beat YOU up!" a red-headed girl wagered. Everyone gasped.

Rolf snorted condescendingly, "Pfft! Yeah right! What're ya gonna do!"

She moved her way to the front of the group, stood and looked him in the eye. They stared each other down, daring the other to make the first move. Rolf walked on the wild side, so he said, "What? Don't have a comeback?"

When she didn't answer immediately he glanced around feeling totally superior in every way when the red-headed girl's fist suddenly buried itself in his gut. She hit him hard and fast making his eyes bug out cartoonishly. The wind was totally knocked out of him and then he began to topple backward. He tried to stand up to stabilize himself but only succeeded in slamming his head on the top of the tunnel. He landed on his keester, and then the pain set in, forcing him to assume the fetal position.

He didn't realize the kids were sneaking past him until the chubby one tripped and landed on top of him. The chubby one didn't want to wait around for Rolf to reach coherency, so he hunkered off in search of his mother.

Rolf lay there in pain, curled up in a ball for what seemed like an eternity

In real time it had may have been a minute after when Rolf suddenly heard some kids screaming followed by a voice proclaiming, "I don't need to use the potty anymore!"

MEANWHILE!

"You know, I was thinking about it and I think could open a much better restaurant." Oscar decided, having finished his breakfast.

"No way, man." Boyd objected through a mouth of pancakes, "McMaori is quality, not to mention it's reasonably priced."

Oscar laughed, "Cheap food is easy to make, Boyd. It's only a matter of frying it in enough fat or sugar-coating it."

Boyd stopped chewing and glared daggers at him. "You take that back."

"I had no idea you were so attached to this craphole, Boyd. Did I hit a soft spot?"

Boyd swallowed his mouthful of pancake and got to his feet, cracking his knuckles. "Nobody disses the Manly McPancake and gets away with it."

A/N: So that's the end of it! I've had this forever but I haven't gotten around to posting it! Anyway, suggestions would be appreciated. And, um, yeah.

Totally random thought, but Caelin Anonymous has surpassed 1000 hits! I'd sure love to know why I get so many freaking hits but no reviews. This is getting pretty ridiculous.


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